It Started With Coffee
by crazykelly101
Summary: Willow Jackson is thirty and single, thinking that she'll never meet "Mr. Right," until the day she literally runs into Timothy McGee at her favorite coffee shop. Sparks fly and the two will face many obstacles as they explore and discover what their relationship could be.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing three fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

* * *

Chapter One

Willow's POV

On this beautiful, cool September morning, I was at my favorite coffee shop, waiting for the hot, steamy goodness that would help me get through my busy day. Looking around the shop, I saw countless couples making googly eyes at each other, which made my self-esteem drop even lower. Being thirty and single wasn't exactly how I had planned on my life going. But then again, nothing in my life had gone according to "The Plan."

"Here you go Willow," Maggie said, handing me my pumpkin spice latte, "And be careful."

"Thanks Mags," I smiled, turning and walking out the door, looking at my cell phone and not paying attention, which led me to run into someone, making us both drop our coffees onto the ground. Thankfully, our clothes were spared from the mess.

"Oh my gosh!" I exclaimed, "I am so sorry. I am such a klutz."

I bent down and picked up my now-empty cup and when I stood back up, I finally looked at the person who I had run into. The man was taller than me, but that wasn't hard to beat. I was only 5'3 and this man was about ten inches taller than me. His eyes were green and the look of them was warm, and thankfully, forgiving.

"No, it's my fault," the man started to say.

"I should have been paying attention," we both said at the same time, making me laugh and the man smile.

"Here, I'll buy you a new coffee," not being able to take my eyes of this mystery man as we walked back into the shop.

"Hey Maggie," I smiled, "Can I get my usual and then whatever my friend here wants?"

"Don't tell me you ran into someone again?" Maggie looked at me like my mom did when I was little and in trouble, "How many times have I told you to watch where you're going? I swear, you're just like my son Ethan. You know, he..."

"Mags, the coffee?" I reminded her.

"I'll have whatever she's having," the man said, making it easy for Maggie as she began to make the coffees.

"Seriously, I am really sorry," I apologized again.

"Don't be," the man smiled, "I'm Tim, by the way."

"Willow," I said, "It's nice to meet you. Although, I wish we could have met under less messy circumstances."

"Here you are," Maggie called out, handing us each our coffees as I got out my wallet, "Don't worry about it sugar. Seeing you with a good-looking, polite, decent man is payment enough."

I blushed and tucked my hair behind my ear as Tim held the door open for me and we began to walk in the same direction, until our small talk was interrupted by my cell phone buzzing, alerting me to about a dozen unread text messages, all wondering where I was.

"I'm really sorry, but I have to go," I sadly stated, "But maybe we could do this again sometime? Without me spilling your coffee?"

"I'd like that," Tim smiled.

I handed him my business card, which had my number at work and my cell number, "Bye Tim."

* * *

Tim's POV

Now this certainly didn't happen every day. Usually, the girls I met turned out to be crazy, criminals, or both. But something was different about Willow, I could tell. Walking into work, I had a little bounce in my step, carrying my coffee, which turned out to be a pumpkin spice latte, in one hand and Willow's card in the other.

Upon reading the card after she walked away, I learned that she was the chief librarian at the DC public library.

"Tony, what is wrong with McGee?" Ziva whispered, but loud enough that I could still hear her.

"Probie, what's the problem-a?" Tony asked, walking over to my desk and sitting on top of it, "You walked in smiling and that never happens unless...Ziva, I know what's wrong with our dear Probie-san."

"Well, Tony, slip it out!" Ziva exclaimed.

"Spit," Tony corrected, "Spit it out. And, my dear foreigner, our little Timmy met a girl!"

"Is that true McGee?" Ziva asked, "Well, finally! Mazel tav."

"You know, some people like having privacy," I said, not realizing that I had set Willow's card down next to my coffee. I reached for it, but I wasn't quick enough, as Tony grabbed it and ran over to Ziva's desk.

"Well, that's the thing about this job Timmy," Tony smiled, "There's no such thing as privacy. We're family and there's no secrets when it comes to family."

"Just because you tell Ziva and me every minute detail about your life doesn't mean I want to do the same," I replied, trying to get the card back from him.

"Willow Jackson," Tony read, "Chief Librarian at the DC public library. You know, I've had some pretty wild dreams about librarians, but I bet I can describe McGee's girl. Short, mousy, with glasses and to round out the package, a boring, one-note personality."

"Stop it Tony," I said loudly, "Don't talk about her like that. You don't even know her."

"DiNozzo, McGee, can you two stop bickering long enough to grab your gear?" Gibbs questioned, walking to his desk and grabbing his gun out of his desk, "We've got a dead petty officer at The Gangplank Marina."

And so my work began.

* * *

Willow's POV

I spent the next three days working, all the while, my mind was somewhere else. I know it sounds stupid, but I just couldn't get Tim out of my head. It had been three days since I met Tim and still, no phone call. I, being me, attributed it to him not being interested.

Now, it was ten o'clock Friday night and I was sitting at home on the couch, my cat Sulley curled up next to me. I was trying to pass the time by reading, ahem, I mean, rereading my favorite mystery novel Deep Six by Thom E. Gemcity, when my phone rang. I lazily looked at the screen and saw a number that I didn't recognize, so I answered it without thinking.

"Hey Willow, it's Tim," I heard.

"Tim!" I said, sounding way to enthusiastic, giving myself a few seconds to regain my composure, "Hey, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

"No, I didn't," Tim replied quickly, "I just got busy with work and I didn't have time to call until now. I should have the weekend off, if all goes well, and I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, I don't have any plans," I smiled, "What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we could go get some dinner and dessert," Tim stated "If that's alright with you."

"Could we skip the dinner and just get dessert?" I bit my lip, "I'm guilty of having a sweet tooth."

"That sounds great," Tim answered.

"I know this great cupcake place in Georgetown," I told him.

"I guess it's a date then," Tim began, "I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Perfect," I smiled, "Good night Tim."

"Good night Willow," Tim said before I hung up.

I began to walk away, but looked over my shoulder and saw that Tim was still looking at me, smiling. I blushed and quickly turned back around.

* * *

_**So, what do you think? I hope ya'll enjoyed the first chapter of It Started With Coffee. **__**Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey**_

_**I also am writing a Criminal Minds fanfiction, a Derek Morgan/OC romance story called An Untraditional Love Story. Check it out and review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario and CBS.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing three fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

* * *

Chapter Two

Tim's POV

Thankfully, we got done with our paperwork in time for me to make my date. I didn't tell Tony or Ziva or Gibbs, even though they all kept asking or hinting about it. Honestly, I was really nervous. I hadn't been on a date in over six months, something I surely wasn't advertising, but the team knew it. When we weren't on a case, I spent my free time writing in my apartment, my dog Jethro being my only company.

I pulled up in front of Willow's apartment building at 6:55, picking up the bouquet of calla lilies that I had bought at the flower market down the street from my apartment, wanting to start the date off on a good note.

Eventually, I found myself standing in front of her apartment door, now afraid to ring the doorbell. I finally mustered up the courage and did it, my hand slightly shaking as I brought it back down to rest at my side. I took a deep breath, ready for the night to come.

* * *

Willow's POV

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror for the third time, checking my outfit and overall appearance. I was wearing a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, a white lace tank top, and a long gray sweater cardigan, and brown riding boots. I was nervous, scratch that, I was beyond nervous. Going on a date with a guy that I had met only a few days before. For all I knew, he could be a crazy serial killer. But, I put that thought to the back of my mind and tucked my long, curled red hair behind my ear.

I was snapped out of my internal dilemma by the doorbell ringing. Taking a deep breath, I walked to the door and opened it, revealing a nervous-looking Tim, dressed in a long-sleeved blue plaid, button-down shirt and jeans, a far cry from the suit that he had been wearing when we first met.

"Hey," I smiled.

"You look beautiful," Tim said, handing me a bouquet of calla lilies, "These are for you."

"Thank you," I replied, "They're perfect. Here, come in while I put these in some water."

I let him in and walked into the kitchen, reaching up to grab a vase from one of my cupboards. Even standing on my tip-toes, I couldn't reach it. Before I knew it, Tim had placed a hand on my waist, reached up, and grabbed the exact vase that I had been reaching for.

"Thanks," I smiled, blushing a bit as he quickly removed his hand from my waist.

"Well, we should get going," I finally said, after putting the flowers in water and setting them on my coffee table.

* * *

He opened the apartment door for me and I locked up before we headed out, taking the short drive to Georgetown Cupcakes. Upon walking in, I ordered a double butterscotch chip cupcake and Tim got a cinnamon coffee crumb cupcake. We took our cupcakes and sat at a small table outside, where the crisp September air was cool, but not yet cold.

Tim had opened his mouth to say something when my phone began to buzz. Looking at the screen, I pushed the ignore button and apologized.

"I'm sorry," I laughed, "So, what was with the suit the other day? No, wait, let me guess. You're a... lawyer?"

"Not quite," Tim smiled, as we both munched on our cupcakes, "I'm a special agent for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service."

"Really?" I said, "My brother River is a Marine. He's in Afghanistan right now, but he's coming home in a few months. And I don't know why I just told you that. Sorry."

"Don't be," Tim replied, "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?" I asked flirtatiously.

"Everything," Tim answered, as I couldn't help but gaze into his eyes.

"I grew up in this really small town in Virginia," I began, "My dad was a farmer and my mom was a teacher. It was your typical small town childhood, nothing exciting happened. I'm just your average country girl who somehow ended up in a big city."

"Well, I was born in Maryland, but grew up in California," Tim laughed.

"So, we're basically complete opposites," I smiled.

"I guess you could say that," Tim said, "But you know what they say, opposites attract."

"So, what made you want to become an NCIS agent?" I asked, changing the subject.

"My dad's in the navy, my grandfather was in the navy, It was expected of me to go into the navy," he began to explain, "So, when I told my dad I was going to Johns Hopkins to study biomedical engineering, let's just say he wasn't too happy."

"I know all about not pleasing your parents," I said, "My dad was set on me going to law school and I even got into Harvard. But, I decided to go to Julliard instead. I wanted to be an actress and a model. As you can see, that didn't exactly work out."

"So how does someone go from Julliard to librarian?" Tim asked, "If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"Not at all," I smiled, "I graduated, top of my class, and I was going to move to LA, but my dad found out that he had cancer, and I couldn't leave my mom to take care of him alone. So, I got the first job I could find, which just so happened to be at the library. I've been there ever since."

"So, you don't act or model anymore?" Tim questioned.

"I model whenever my agent can get me a gig," I answered, "And I've done a few commercials and made-for-tv movies, but I don't think LA or the big screen are ever going to want a thirty year old has-been."

"You never know," Tim said, looking at me, "Anything can happen."

* * *

We finished our cupcakes and then proceeded to walk around Georgetown, just talking about anything and everything, while my phone kept buzzing and I kept pressing the ignore button. He told me about his team and I told him about the people I worked with at the library.

"So, who's your favorite author?" Tim asked, as we both sipped the coffee that we had gotten.

"Well, I've really been loving this new author," I raved, sipping my pumpkin spice latte, "Thom E. Gemcity. Have you heard of him?"

He almost choked on his coffee, coughing, and kind of scaring me, before he finally caught his breath again.

"Um, yeah," he finally spit out, "I've read some of his books. They're all right."

I was about to respond when my phone began to buzz for the tenth time while we were on our date.

"I am really sorry," I apologized, "I have to take this."

"No problem," Tim said, as I walked over and sat on a bench and answered the phone.

"Roxie, what's wrong?" I whispered, not wanting Tim to hear anything.

"Nothing's wrong Wills," Roxie also whispered, "But Mr. Ambrose got a call today from a VIP. A special request for you, tonight. $1000."

I sighed, looking over at Tim, who just so happened to be looking at me. He smiled, which made me smile and blush as I looked away shyly.

"Roxie, I'm kind of on a date," I replied.

"Wills, you can't say no to Mr. Ambrose," Roxie said, "Lulu did, and look what happened to her. When Hamilton Ambrose wants you to come in, you come in. No questions asked. Please girl, just come."

"Alright," I relented, "Tell him I'll be there in a half hour."

Roxie Kitchens, my best friend, could talk me into almost anything.

I walked back over to Tim, slipping my phone back into my purse.

"Everything okay?" Tim questioned.

"Yeah," I answered, "I have to get home though. I'm really sorry."

"Of course," Tim smiled, as a cold breeze blew and I slipped my arm through his as we walked back to where he had parked the car.

* * *

Before I knew it, we were in front of my apartment door. It seemed so easy to talk to Tim, I felt like I could tell him anything. Well, almost anything.

I smiled, "Thank you for tonight Tim. I had a really good time."

"And you didn't even spill the coffee," he smirked, making me laugh.

With his eyes locked on mine, Tim took a hesitant step towards me, my heart pounding faster than it had ever before.

I noticed a small scar on the bridge of his nose, and for a split second, I wondered how it got there. I realized that I wanted to know everything about the man standing in front of me. And more than anything, right now, I wanted to feel his lips on mine.

Just as the longing became unbearable, his lips met mine. The warmth of his mouth sent shivers down my spine. I gently wrapped my arms around his neck as the kiss slightly deepened.

And just like that, the kiss was over. I took a small step back, my hand running down his arm and toying with his fingers.

"Goodnight Tim," I smiled, knowing that there was an ever-present blush on my face, as I finally entered my apartment and closed the door.

* * *

I changed my clothes and redid my makeup, getting into my car and driving to my second job. The large neon sign proudly proclaimed, "Ambrose's Gentlemen's Club."

I took a deep breath as I sat in front of one of the vanities in the back room. Looking in the mirror, I almost cried at the sight of myself. Dark eyeliner and fake eyelashes, complete with red lipstick. I was wearing a black bustier top that showed my toned abs and a black lace pair of boy shorts, with black lace garters and fishnet stockings.

I felt sick as I entered the room where an unknown man sat in a chair, smiling devilishly at me. All I was thinking about was Tim as I danced in his lap, knowing I was only in this for the money and nothing else.

* * *

_**So, what do you think? I hope ya'll enjoyed the second chapter of It Started With Coffee. **__**Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey**_

_**I also am writing a Criminal Minds fanfiction, a Derek Morgan/OC romance story called An Untraditional Love Story. Check it out and review!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario and CBS.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing three fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

***Tim might seem a little OOC (out of character) but just go with it!***

* * *

Chapter Three

Tim's POV

I walked into work, head held high and a smile on my face the next day, receiving weird looks from Tony and Ziva as I sat down at my desk, sipping my pumpkin spice latte, which I was drinking all the time now, thanks to Willow.

"So McLoverboy," Tony began, "How was your date last night?"

"You know what Tony?" I said, looking over at him, "It was great. Thanks for asking."

"Good for you McGee," Ziva smiled.

"What's so special about this one McGoo?" Tony asked, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the desk, his hands behind his head.

"Tony, don't you have a filler?" Ziva barked.

"Filter," Tony said, annoyed, "And I'm just saying. Probie Wan Kenobi doesn't exactly have a great track record with women. There was that girl who stole his credit card, "Claire," who was just me cat-fishing him, and then there was Amanda the hitman. Or is it hitwoman? I'm not really sure..."

"Willow's different," I interrupted.

"I'm sure she is McRomeo," Tony said, opening his mouth to continue speaking, but before he could, Gibbs shoved his feet off the desk. The sudden force made Tony fall out of his chair, causing Ziva and I to laugh as he slowly made his way off the floor and sat back in his chair.

"Comfortable there DiNozzo?" Gibbs said as he got in his drawer and grabbed his badge and gun.

"I am now Boss," Tony responded.  
"Well, don't be," Gibbs stated, "We've got a dead naval commander in Rock Creek Park. Grab your gear."

As I gathered my gear together, my phone vibrated, indicating a new text message. When I saw that it was from Willow, I smiled.

_I know you're at work, but I just thought I would say hi :) Last night was really fun...maybe we could do that again sometime?! ~Willow_

As we walked towards the elevator, I sent her a quick text back, before getting back to my "work" mindset.

* * *

Willow's POV

I was sitting at the desk in my office at the library, doing some paperwork and ordering books. I had sent a cute message to Tim, just because, but I knew he was at work and probably wouldn't be texting me back anytime soon. But, only a few minutes later, to my surprise, my phone signaled that I had a text message. I was happy to see that it was from Tim.

_I would love to go out with you again. Hanging out with you last night was the most fun I've had in a long time. Are you free this weekend? ~Tim_

I smiled as I read it and got really excited, only to remember the double shift I had Friday night and Saturday night at Ambrose's.

_I'm free on Sunday. What did you have in mind?~Willow _

I left my office for a few minutes to talk to some new volunteers, and when I came back, there was a reply from Tim.

_It's a surprise. I'll pick you up at seven. ~Tim_

The mystery just got me excited and I got even more excited when I got home to find a letter from my brother, River.

Some back story: River is my younger brother. He's twenty-five and has currently been deployed to Afghanistan in the Marines for a year. He has a wife, Anya, and they have two children. Paisley is three and Gavin is two. I am definitely the luckiest aunt in the world. I babysit when I have the time and when Anya needs a break. The two of them are quite the handful, like River, but both are the spitting image of their mom. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

River told me he would be coming home in just a few short months, something I had been waiting to hear for a long time. My brother and I, even though we're five years apart, have always been super close, so him being away for this long period of time, has been very hard.

* * *

Tim's POV

I spent Friday and most of Saturday working, until we finally found the sailor who had killed his commanding officer because he slept with his girlfriend. I was ready to get my mind off of death and work and see Willow. We had texted a bit the past two days, but we had both been working, so it wasn't for long.

Finally, it was almost seven, so I drove to Willow's apartment. Again, as I reached her door, I was nervous. I hesitantly rang the door bell and then it was a waiting game.

* * *

Willow's POV

I was so excited for my date with Tim tonight. After the long hours at Ambrose's, I needed to get out and get my mind off all the drama from work. Today, I was dressed in a black long-sleeved t-shirt, chocolate brown infinity scarf, gray skinny jeans, and brown boots. As I grabbed my birthstone ring that had been a gift from my brother, a small box fell off of my dresser, and I bent down to pick it and its contents up. I gathered up the large wad of one dollar bills, about a hundred of them, and put them back in the box, and put the box back on my dresser. I was so ashamed about the job at Ambrose's, I didn't want to tell Tim, thinking that he would think less of me.

The doorbell rang, and I suddenly got very nervous. After our last date, and the goodnight kiss, I didn't exactly know what our relationship was.

I opened the door, smiling when I saw Tim looking nervous too.

"Hey," I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before shutting my door and locking up, as we began to walk towards the elevator, "So, you still haven't told me where we're going?"

"Maybe I want it to be a surprise," Tim smiled, as our fingers automatically intertwined as we stepped into the elevator.

* * *

Tim's POV

The elevator doors closed and we began to move down. Suddenly, the elevator came to a crashing stop as the light inside went off. It jolted and I instinctively reached out and shielded Willow. The light then came back on, but I knew that we were stuck.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise," Willow smiled as my arms remained wrapped around her waist.

"Don't worry, this isn't what I had planned," I said nervously, as we both sunk to the floor and sat next to each other, leaning against the elevator walls, "Not even close."

"Tim," I said his name, liking the way it sounded coming from my lips, "It's fine. You couldn't have planned this. And, this gives us time to talk, without any distractions."

"I guess you're right," I answered, half-smiling.

"So, tell me about your team," she stated, pulling her knees closer to her chest.

"Well, Gibbs, he's my boss, he's not really into talking a whole lot," I began, "No one can lie around him. But, he gave me the chance that I've always wanted. Then there's Ziva. She's a ninja, seriously, she was trained by Mossad. She can take down someone three times her size. Abby, she's our forensic scientist. She's kind of crazy, she talks fast, and has some crazy fashion sense. Ducky and Palmer, they're the medical examiners. Ducky tells stories and Palmer always puts his foot in his mouth. Well, and Tony, Tony is a real character. He thinks he's a ladies' man, but, in actuality, he has terrible luck with women. All of us, we're like one big, crazy family."

"It sounds like a great group of people to be surrounded by," she said, looking into my eyes, "I wish I had people like that in my life."

"What about the people you work with?" I asked, "Tell me about them."

"I don't really have close relationships with anyone," she responded, "I tend to keep to myself. Go to work, come home, end of story."

* * *

Willow's POV

We had been stuck in the elevator for an hour now, and Tim and I had just been talking, about our childhoods, first kisses, and future plans.

"Tim," I said, breaking the silence that had been floating for a few minutes, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he replied, looking kind of concerned, "Anything."

"What is this?" I pointed to him and then myself, "What is our relationship?"

He seemed stunned, a deer in the headlights, as I asked that question.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "I shouldn't have said anything. I just have been in some bad relationships and I don't want to waste my time."

"Do you feel like you're wasting your time with me?" Tim asked, his eyes fixed intently on mine, as he began to move closer to me.

It felt like ages before I could finally muster an answer, "No," I said, right before Tim's lips met mine, his hand cupping my face.

A rush of heat started in my chest and slowly spread throughout my body, reaching every last limb. Tilting my head, I deepened the kiss and traced my tongue against the contour of his tender lips. Tim's lips parted then, and I could taste his sweet tongue as he ran it across mine. I ran my hands through his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more.

He broke the kiss, much to my disappointment. I could feel his breath blowing in my face, sending shivers down my spine.

"If that didn't tell you that I want to be with you, I don't know what will," Tim said, and even in the darkness of this dingy elevator shaft, I could see him smirking triumphantly.

"I'm scared," I muttered, "I just don't want to get hurt again."

"I promise you," Tim said, tucking my hair behind my ear, my face in his hand, "That's not going to happen, trust me."

"I do," I stammered, "I trust you, which is crazy, because I just met you. I've never felt more comfortable with someone in my entire life. You make me feel like I matter, like I'm important."

"That's because you do," Tim stated, "And you are."

Just then, the light flickered back on, and the elevator began to move once again.

"Well, I guess my plans for tonight are not going to happen," Tim sighed, as he helped me up off the floor.

"What did you have planned? If you don't mind me asking of course," I said, smiling at him.

"We were going to go see Casablanca in the park," Tim replied, "And it was going to be perfect and romantic, with candles and chocolate, the whole shebang. I mean, I really wanted..."

"Tim," I interrupted him, "Tonight was perfect."

We ended up walking around downtown DC, holding hands and eating ice cream cones, talking and laughing.

But, all too soon, midnight came, and we were back at my apartment again.

"So, you really want to do this?" I asked him, looking him straight in the eye.

"I'm in if you are," he answered back.

I sighed, "Goodnight Timothy McGee."

"Goodnight Willow Jackson," he replied, as our lips met once more for another delicate kiss.

* * *

I opened the door, walked in, and turned around, to see Tim smiling at me. I smiled back and closed the door, leaning against it and smiling, not believing what had happened tonight.

My phone vibrated, signaling a text message. I was excited thinking it was Tim. My blood ran cold as I read the message on the screen.

_Be here tomorrow, bright and early. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to find out about your extra-curricular activities, now would you? All my love, H._

Hamilton Ambrose had eyes everywhere, apparently, in my apartment complex too. I couldn't keep letting Hamilton control my life, but I knew all too well what happened when you tried to get out of his world. Two of the girls who had been there when I started working had tried, and had wound up dead, their murders still unsolved. The police looked for a little while, but, after some time, a stripper's death becomes old news and a cold case.

My phone buzzed once again, and when I saw it was from Hamilton again, I really didn't want to read it, but I knew I didn't have a choice.

_Check out the website. You're a hit! All my love, H._

I hurriedly went to my laptop and went to Ambrose's website. I clicked on the photo gallery, which was private unless you had the password, which only VIPs and big spenders got access too. My portfolio, titled Scarlett, the name that had been chosen for me when I had started, had a hundred thousand views and as many comments, all of them vulgar and nasty, making me sick.

The pictures, too, made me feel ashamed. All of them were of me, seductively posed, in barely-there lingerie, leaving little to the imagination.

I shut my laptop and took a deep breath. I couldn't tell Tim about my secret life. I had my reasons for doing what I was doing, and I didn't have a choice. I had to do this to survive. I hoped that if Tim ever did find out, he could understand where I was coming from.

* * *

_**So, what do you think? I hope ya'll enjoyed the third chapter of It Started With Coffee. **__**Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey**_

_**I also am writing a Criminal Minds fanfiction, a Derek Morgan/OC romance story called An Untraditional Love Story. Check it out and review!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario and CBS.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing three fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

**I would also like to thank Peglet, Hope'sFace, stargatesg1973, Gryffindor4eva, torontogirl12, and Miss Private Daniel Jackson for their amazing reviews! Keep it up!**

* * *

**_Chapter Four: Two months later_**

Tim's POV

As I sat at my desk on a Friday morning, working on finding out some background information on the fourth dead Marine that had been found in an alley behind a bar, I felt like someone was watching me. Looking up from my computer, I saw Tony and Ziva staring at me.

"Something wrong you guys?" I asked hesitantly, not sure what they were up to.

"He's smiling," Tony said slowly, "It could only be two things."

I sighed, awaiting Tony's next sarcastic answer.

"Elf Lord is either writing a new book or has a new girl," Tony concluded, a sly look appearing on his face.

"Well, which is it McGee?" Ziva smiled.

I couldn't help but smile, and apparently blush, as I thought about Willow. It had been two months since we had made things "official," and I couldn't be happier about the way things were going. Granted, we didn't get to spend that much time together, because we were both so busy with work, but that just made the time we did spend together even more special.

"How long McGee?" Gibbs asked as he quickly walked into the conversation.

"Two months sir," I answered quickly, gulping since we were supposed to be talking about this latest in a string of murders.

"With the librarian, right?" Gibbs again asked, "Willow, I believe her name was."

"Yes sir," I replied, waiting for the inevitable head slap.

"I'm happy for you McGee," Gibbs said, making my mouth fall open, "Now, if I ever hear you talking about your personal life during a case again, you'll wish you hadn't mentioned it in the first place."

"Of course sir," I said professionally, "Now, about PFC Chang…."

* * *

Willow's POV

Another long day at Ambrose's made me think about Tim. We had been together for two months now, but, in all actuality, we had only spent time together for about a quarter of that time. Between his busy NCIS schedule, and my even busier double-life, there wasn't much time for relationships, but we were determined to make it work and see where this could go.

Thankfully, we had a take-out date set for tonight, otherwise, I wouldn't have made it through the day.

"Hey Wills," Roxy said, as she walked into the dressing room after her last appointment of the night, "Good night?"

"It was alright," I sighed, looking at the picture of all fifteen Ambrose girls that hung on the wall. Five of those original women, now "gone," as Hamilton had told us, but I knew better than to believe anything he said.

"I miss them too," Roxy smiled, as she came and put her hand on my shoulder, she too looking at the picture.

"You know what happened to them as well as I do," I said loudly.

"Shhhhh...!" Roxy hushed me as she ran over and shut the door, "If Hamilton hears you; you're as dead as they are."

"He killed them Roxy," I restated, "He killed Lulu and Paige and Jessie and Sera and Bethany. They're dead because they wanted out."

"Look Wills, I'm happy that you found a guy and everything, but I think it's messing with your head," Roxy said, "If you try to get out, he'll do the same to you what he did to them. You need the money and I don't want to see you get hurt, at all."

"I haven't told Tim," I said, embarrassed, "I'm afraid that, if I do, he'll leave me and never want to speak to me again."

"Girl, you gotta fight for your man," Roxy told me, "Love, true love, only comes around once in a lifetime. You and Tim, you're good for each other. I don't want to see this job break you two up."

* * *

Triumphantly, after I had changed out of my disgusting garb, I found myself knocking on Mr. Ambrose's door. His large bodyguard, Kalikau, opened the door, glaring at me as he moved out of the way so that Hamilton could see who it was.

"Ah, Willow," he began, a smile on his face, "Please come in."

I maneuvered between Kalikau and the door and took a seat in front of Hamilton's desk.

"Kalikau, could you give us a moment?" Mr. Ambrose asked, "Survey and secure the perimeter and be back in ten minutes."

The large Tongan man nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him.

"What can I do for you Willow?" Mr. Ambrose smiled sinisterly.

"I know what you did," I snapped, not believing that the words that I had held in for almost two years had finally come out.

"Excuse me?" he growled, looking quite menacing.

"The other girls, the ones you said quit," I reminded him, "They all ended up dead, murdered actually."

"How unfortunate," Hamilton said, showing no emotion or empathy, "Such a tragedy."

"I know that you killed them," I went on, "Lulu was first. You killed her because she wanted out. The rest of them died because they were going to go to the cops."

"You have always been the sassy one, the spitfire," Hamilton smiled again, standing up and coming to sit on the edge of his desk in front of me, "But you can't touch me. No one can. I'm Hamilton Ambrose, one of the wealthiest men in the District of Columbia. I will forever own you Willow Jackson."

"I'm not going to let you control my life," I fought back, "For once; I'm going to do what I want to do, not what you tell me to do. I will go to the cops, you mark my words. They will hear about every disgusting and morbid thing that goes on here."

"Oh Miss Jackson," he smiled evilly again, and before I knew it, his fist had connected with my jaw, throwing me out of my jaw as I landed on the ground with a loud thud, pain shooting through my head.

"Take the weekend off and think about what you really think you should do," Hamilton calmly stated, walking out of his office and closing the door once more.

I pulled myself up and walked to the mirror, in which I saw streaks of blood and a large bruise emerging on my jaw. Great, I thought, how was I supposed to explain this to Tim tonight?

* * *

An hour later, I was awaiting the results of the x-ray that the emergency room doctor had insisted I get.

Just to make sure nothing is broken, he had said. I had had to push back my date with Tim because of the wait.

"Miss Jackson, that falling bookcase certainly did a number," the doctor said as he entered the room, holding a clipboard, "But, thankfully, there is nothing broken. You'll have a nasty bruise and some severe tenderness for the next week or so, but you should feel very lucky."

* * *

I hurried home, threw my long, curled red hair into a ponytail, took off all of my makeup, and changed into a pair of grey sweats and of Tim's NCIS t-shirts that he had left here one night when he had stayed over. No, we hadn't done "that" yet, but being able to spend the night in his arms, it was the best night of sleep I had gotten since starting work at Ambrose's.

In the bathroom, the bruise was already prominent. Being as careful as I could, I used foundation and concealer to make it less noticeable. Afterwards, I surveyed my handiwork. It was now only a faint outline on my jawline, but it hurt like a mother.

All too soon, there was a knock at the door, and I ran to get it. Opening the door, I almost jumped right into his arms, but the Chinese take-out blocked my entry.

* * *

"Hey," I smiled, noticing the wave of concern that swept over his face when he saw mine. It was quickly replaced by a forced smile.

I offered to help him bring in the food, but he refused, barely making it to the kitchen before the containers toppled onto the counter. He looked embarrassed when I couldn't help but laugh at his adorable clumsiness.

"Sorry about that," he apologized.

"You're talking to the queen of all klutzes," I smiled, "Don't apologize."

We each took a box and made it to the couch, where, after I had eaten barely anything, I snuggled up next to him, my head on his shoulder as Criminal Minds played on TV.

"Those people are incredible," I said, "How could you look at that stuff every day? I don't know how you do it."

"It's nice to know that you have someone waiting for you when all the bad stuff is over," Tim smiled, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

"I'll always be here," I replied, sitting up to press a soft kiss to his lips. It turned into something deeper, continuing until we both had to stop to catch our breath.

* * *

"Can I ask you something?" Tim asked, as I repositioned myself so my head sat in his lap and my legs spread out on the rest of the couch.

"What is it?" I asked, already knowing what he was going to ask, but hearing the concern in his voice killed me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tracing the faint outline of the painful bruise on my face with his thumb, "What happened?"

"Oh, that," I said, "I was putting books away today when one of the shelves fell, and a dictionary made contact with my face."

He didn't look like he believed me, but he didn't press the issue any further, something I was grateful for.

Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep, only being awoken when Tim picked me up and carried me into my room.

"I have to go," Tim stated reluctantly, "Early morning tomorrow and I'll probably have to work all weekend. But, I'll call you okay?" He leaned down and pressed a long, deep kiss to my lips before abruptly pulling away and leaving me wanting more.

* * *

Tim's POV

As I left Willow's apartment, I had a feeling that she hadn't told me the truth about the bruise on her face. Growing up with my sister Sarah, who was the queen of hiding hickeys, I knew that it was much worse than a dictionary hitting her. But, I could tell from her body language, that she didn't want to talk about it. So, for now, I was letting it go.

* * *

Willow's POV

I took a deep breath as I lay there in bed, not able to fall asleep, my face throbbing. I had to tell Tim. I couldn't keep secrets from him anymore. I had to tell him everything. First thing Monday morning, I was going to talk to him, and nothing was going to stop me.

* * *

**_So, what do you think? I hope ya'll enjoyed the fourth chapter of It Started With Coffee. _**

**_Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario and CBS.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing three fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

**I would also like to thank Gryffindor4eva, Saissa, Miss Private Daniel Jackson, Hope'sFace, and puppypants for their amazing reviews! Keep it up!**

* * *

Chapter Five

Tim's POV

I definitely hadn't been expecting to get called in early Saturday morning, to meet the team at Franklin Square.

"What's up Boss?" I asked, as we stood behind yellow crime scene tape.

"Another dead Marine McGee," Gibbs stated, "But they changed it up this time. McGee, you're on photos, Tony and Ziva, interviews, go."

After two hours, we were finally back at the office, looking up all we could find on Petty Officer Lucas Tate.

"Boss, I've got something," I said, putting the information from my computer screen on the TV screen, "I've got a last known location for Tate according to Ducky's TOD of nine o'clock last night. His credit card was used at an ATM outside Ambrose's Gentlemen's Club over twenty times in the last month, and last night, he withdrew two-hundred dollars and paid for drinks at the club at seven forty-five."

"Good work McGee," Gibbs replied, "Go to the club and find out who Tate was there to see. Take Ziva with you."

"Why can't I go with McGeek?" Tony whined.

"Because the last time I sent you to interview at a strip club, you didn't come back for four hours," Gibbs answered sternly.

"I was just trying to be thorough Boss," Tony smiled, "Cover all the bases."

"I'm sure you did DiNozzo," Gibbs sighed, "McGee, Ziver, go!"

* * *

Willow's POV

I decided to go into work anyway the next morning, despite Hamilton's threat that I should stay home. Roxy had texted me an hour before, saying that there was a large crowd of big-spenders.

Against my better judgement, I walked into the dressing room, did my hair and god-awful makeup, and changed into a skin-tight, very short black dress with a very deep-V neckline, showing off my ample cleavage, and black stilettos. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the club, changing my state of mind, and turning into Scarlett, or as the VIPs called me, The Scarlett Seductress.

* * *

Tim's POV

We arrived at the club and it was surprisingly full for so early in the morning. After fighting our way through the crowd, we finally approached the bar.

"We need to speak with whoever is in charge," I said, as Ziva and I both showed our badges, which frightened the bartender very much, as he left and then reappeared with a young blonde-haired man.

"I'm Harrison Ambrose, manager," he said, sounding official, but looking like he had barely graduated from high school.

"We're investigating several murders," Ziva began, "And the last victim's last known whereabouts before he was killed was here."

"I read about that in the paper," Harrison replied, "It's terrible. I would love to help you with whatever you need."

"We need to know who he was here to see," I answered, already not liking this guy for some reason.

"Well, what was his name?" he asked, "I can look in our customer request forms."

"Request forms?" Ziva questioned, looking disgusted.

"Yes, our customers can request the services of any of our employees," Harrison explained, looking through the large folder that he had been carrying when he got here, "Ah, here it is. Last night, Lucas Tate requested Scarlett. And it looks like he spent a nice chunk of change on her."

"We're going to need to speak to her," I said authoritatively, still feeling uneasy about Harrison and this entire place.

"You're in luck, she's working today," Harrison responded, "I will go get her and you can speak in my father's office."

* * *

Willow's POV

As I finished a private dance in one of the VIP rooms, Harrison Ambrose, Hamilton Ambrose's son, came in.

"The police want to talk to you, beautiful," he smiled, checking me out.

"You're disgusting," I replied, making my way past him in the door, but not before he copped a feel, making me turn and pin him against the wall, my arm pressed against his throat as I put my self-defense training to use, "If you ever touch me again, it'll be the last thing you do."

"Is that a threat, Miss Jackson?" he laughed, "I'm sure my father would love to hear about that."

I rolled my eyes and followed him as he led me to his father's office.

"After you," Harrison said, motioning towards the door, "I would hate for you to get arrested though. Where else can I see and do so much to you for free?"

Harrison looked me over one more time before walking away. He was twenty-one, barely, and his father had made him manager only a few months before. The younger girls that worked here would sleep with him to get better hours or raises, and he knew that he could do anything that he wanted.

I quickly looked in the mirror that hung on the wall outside Mr. Ambrose's office. The fake eyelashes and heavy eyeliner made me look sultry and seductive, without even trying. The red lipstick that adorned my lips was a little smeared, so I quickly reapplied before taking a deep breath and opening the door, my eyes widening as I saw who was in it. Tim.

* * *

Tim's POV

Ziva and I had been waiting in Mr. Ambrose's office for about ten minutes when the doorknob finally turned and the door opened, revealing the last face I thought I would see here. Willow.

Her makeup was dark and heavy, and her dress was tight, short, and very low-cut, leaving nothing to the imagination. I was so shocked, I couldn't say anything I blinked, my eyes getting wide, as she hesitantly made her way in and shut the door, perching herself in the large chair behind the desk, as Ziva and I sat in the two in front of it.

Ziva, noticing that I could not speak, began questioning her, "Now, you were with Petty Officer Tate last night? At around eight o'clock?"

"Yes," Willow managed to stammer, "It was a…a request. He was here for about an hour and then he paid his bill and left."

"He was found dead this morning in Franklin Square," Ziva replied, "And this was his last known location before he was killed."

"And you think I killed him?" she retorted, now becoming defensive, "Look, I do my job, and I don't make it personal."

She looked right at me as she said that, breaking my heart as tears came to her eyes.

"When he left here, he was alive," Willow answered, "If you want to look at someone, look at his wife. She was here last night too."

"His wife came here?" I was finally able to say.

"She came in right as his allotted session time was up," she said, obviously embarrassed to talk about, "She came in, screaming at him, waving around a gun. Security escorted her out, but he left right after they did."

"Thank you for your time," Ziva replied, "McGee, I'm going to go finish questioning the manager. It looks like you might need a few minutes of alone time."

She walked out, leaving Willow and I alone.

* * *

Willow's POV

I sat in Hamilton's chair, feeling disgusting and worthless, as Tim sat in front of me, unable to say anything. He stood to leave, shaking his head, but I stood up.

"Tim, wait, please," I croaked, my eyes now full of tears, "Let me explain."

"What is there to explain Willow?" Tim responded in an assertive tone, "We've been together for two months and oh yeah, you just happened to forget to mention that you're a stripper."

"Tim, it's not like that," I replied, putting my hand on his arm, as he quickly brushed it off.

"Really, Willow?" Tim said, gesturing towards my appearance, "Because it sure looks that way."

"Tim, I wanted to tell you," I began.

"Well then, why didn't you?" he answered, his eyes now brimming with tears, "I let you into my life Willow. I thought that I was…you know, never mind. It doesn't even matter now."

"Please don't do this Tim," I said, as he opened the office door, turning around to face me once more, his hand on the knob, "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want you to leave me because of all of this."

* * *

"Why couldn't you just tell me?" Tim asked, "I had to find out like this."

"Because I think I'm falling in love with you," I managed to blurt out, now full-on crying, "But I knew that if I told you, you would see me differently and I didn't want that to happen."

Tim looked at me, and I thought I saw a glimmer of forgiveness on his face, but it quickly disappeared, and he looked at me one last time before walking out.

I sunk to the floor, my back leaning against the desk, as I cried, my makeup basically washed off. I ran into the dressing room, where Roxy was sitting, and began to take off the remainder of my makeup, knowing that I had to leave.

"What's wrong sweetie?" she asked, coming over to rub my arm.

"I'm leaving," I replied, "I have to get out of here."

"Wills, I…" Roxy began before I cut her off.

"Don't try to stop me Rox," I answered, "I need to take some time to think."

I changed into my normal clothes, threw my hair into a ponytail, and got in my car.

* * *

_A half hour later…_

As I walked through the front doors of NCIS and got a visitor's badge, I hesitantly looked around, knowing that I was trying to avoid Tim at all costs.

"Can I help you young lady?" a man with a Scottish-type accent said behind me, and as I turned around to face him, I was met by a kind, older gentleman's face.

"I was actually wondering if you knew Timothy McGee," I asked, my voice wavering as I spoke his name.

"Yes, of course," the man smiled, "I'm Dr. Mallard by the way, but you can call me Ducky. I'm the medical examiner and I work closely with Timothy's team. I was actually just heading to see them now. Would you care to join me?"

"No," I shook my head, "I was actually just wondering if you could give him this."

I held out a flash drive and Ducky took it in his hand.

"Of course," he smiled, "I'm so sorry. I'm being terribly rude. I didn't even ask for your name."

"Willow," I returned the smile, "Willow Jackson. Just tell him to listen to what's on that please. And that I'm sorry."

"I will do that my dear," Ducky replied, "Be safe."

"It was nice to meet you Ducky," I said, before turning around and walking out.

* * *

Tim's POV

I was feeling numb when Ziva and I returned to the office. She had asked me what had happened, but I wouldn't talk about it, I just couldn't. A few hours after we got back, since I had just been sitting down, staring at my computer, Tony noticed my sullen mood.

"Something wrong there McSadness?" Tony smiled, "What's wrong? Did your girlfriend turn out to be a closet pyromaniac?"

"Tony, zip it!" Ziva whispered, "I don't think that McGee wants to talk about it."

Ducky walked in just then, sparing me from more embarrassing and uncomfortable Tony comments.

"You got something Ducky?" Gibbs asked, as he walked in right behind him.

"I do," Ducky answered, "Mr. Tate wasn't shot by his wife's gun. The bullet fragments I removed from his chest were analyzed by Abby. He was killed by a .38 Smith and Wesson. Mrs. Tate owns a smaller caliber pistol. She didn't kill her husband."

"So, we're back to square one," Gibbs replied, "Thanks Ducky. Is that it?"

"No, actually there is one more thing," Ducky said, walking over towards me, "A young lady asked me to give this to you."

He placed a flash drive on my desk, which I subsequently picked up and looked at.

"Who, Ducky?" I asked, very confused.

"A delightful girl named Willow," Ducky smiled, "She seemed rather upset though, now that I think about it. Oh, well, anyway, she told me to tell you that you should listen to what's on that, and that she is sorry."

I turned the flash drive over in my fingers before slipping it in my suit coat pocket and returning to work.

"Thanks Ducky," I said, as I began typing on the computer, ignoring the looks I was getting from my team.

* * *

Willow's POV

As I drove down a long stretch of freeway, four duffle bags full of my stuff in the back, I knew that I had to get as far away from Hamilton Ambrose as I could. I had left my cell phone at my house, knowing that, at some point, he could have installed a tracking device in it. I had picked up a disposable cell at the drug store before leaving. My cat, Sulley, sat in his carrier on the passenger seat. I couldn't bear to leave him, but I had no idea where I was going. I just kept driving, thinking of Tim the whole time.

As I looked into my rearview mirror, I saw the picture that had been taped to the bottom of it. It was from a few weeks ago, when Tim and I had gone to a carnival that was in town. On the Ferris wheel, they had cameras installed so you could take pictures and then, you were able to purchase them after you got off.

In the picture, Tim and I were both smiling and I remembered that moment like it had just happened. Right after the picture had been taken; Tim leaned over and kissed me, before draping his jacket over my bare arms. I leaned my head to rest on his shoulder and thought of what a perfect moment it was.

Now, though, that was a distant memory. I had ruined everything by keeping my line of work a secret and after the way Tim had acted, I knew that he would never forgive me. Maybe, though, by giving him the flash drive, it would finally bring Hamilton Ambrose to justice.

* * *

**_So, what do you think? I hope you all enjoyed the fifth chapter of It Started With Coffee. _**

**_Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey_**

**_I have also started writing another McGee/OC story called All Hands On Deck! Check it out and review please!_**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario and CBS.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing four fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

**I would also like to thank Miss Private Daniel Jackson, Saissa, puppypants, Gryffindor4eva, Hope'sFace, Peglet, and Kendra29 for their amazing reviews! Keep it up!**

* * *

Chapter Six-_Two months later..._

Willow's POV

I walked into the townhouse that I was now renting, steps from the beach and harbor in Southport, North Carolina, two large bags of groceries in my arms.

After dropping off the flash drive for Tim, I drove south, and kept driving until I ran out of gas right at the sign that was welcoming me to this quaint town. I felt like it was fate, so I went to the realty office right away, and found that the only place available to rent was just a short walk from the beach. The secluded, small town made me feel a bit safer, even though, during the past two months, all I could think about was Tim.

I had gotten a job at a local café as a waitress, thankfully without having to have my ID or background checked. I was trying to stay as far under the radar as possible. Before leaving, I left two notes in my house: one for Anya and one for Tim. I knew that Tim actually getting the one I'd written for him was a long shot, but I had to tell him how sorry I really was.

I was really starting to miss DC. I didn't socialize with anyone here for two reasons: one, because I didn't know who were Hamilton's goons, and two, because I couldn't risk anyone finding out who I really was. Not Elizabeth from Wilmington, here to get back on her feet, but Willow from DC, trying to keep herself safe while her former employer hunts her down, intent on getting rid of her.

For now, I was just getting by, missing my family and, most of all, Tim. After his reaction, I wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to see me again, but I couldn't get him off my mind.

* * *

Tim's POV

For the past two months, the team and I had been investigating Hamilton Ambrose. The flash drive that Willow had given me had audio files of conversations that she had had with him, along with several of his meetings with staff and his son. All of them contained incriminating evidence that he murdered at least five women and the five Marines from the case we had previously been investigating.

However, because Willow had obtained the evidence illegally, we couldn't use it to arrest Hamilton, his bodyguards, or his son. So, for the past two months, Ziva had been undercover working there, finding out as much as she could while wearing wire and hidden camera. Hamilton had been strangely absent, probably because he was off looking for Willow, which scared me. We were tracking his movements, though, which made me feel a bit better. I still remember when I went to see her, only to find a bunch of her stuff gone, and a letter to me on the table.

**_Tim,_**

**_I had to leave. I had to get out of DC. It just isn't safe for me anymore. Just know how much I wanted to tell you. I just couldn't. I promise that I will explain EVERYTHING someday, if I can. I understand if you never want to see me again. I don't plan on coming back to DC. Tell Ducky that I said thank you._**

**_Oh, and Tim….I love you. Please know how much I mean that. Our short amount of time together made me realize that love at first sight and true love exists, even if you don't get to keep it for very long. Thank you for being my knight in shining armor. Love, Willow_**

Since then, I had been looking for her. I had to find her. I had to apologize. I had to tell her what I couldn't that night at the club.

**Flashback…**

_"Tim, wait, please," Willow croaked, her eyes now full of tears, "Let me explain."_

_"What is there to explain Willow?" I responded in an assertive tone, "We've been together for two months and oh yeah, you just happened to forget to mention that you're a stripper."_

_"Tim, it's not like that," she replied, putting her hand on my arm, as I quickly brushed it off._

_"Really, Willow?" I said, gesturing towards my appearance, "Because it sure looks that way."_

_"Tim, I wanted to tell you," she began._

_"Well then, why didn't you?" I answered, my eyes now brimming with tears, "I let you into my life Willow. I thought that I was…you know, never mind. It doesn't even matter now."_

_"Please don't do this Tim," she cried, as I opened the office door, turning around to face her once more, my hand on the knob, "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want you to leave me because of all of this."_

_"Why couldn't you just tell me?" I pleaded, "I had to find out like this."_

_"Because I think I'm falling in love with you," she managed to blurt out, now full-on crying, "But I knew that if I told you, you would see me differently and I didn't want that to happen."_

_I looked at her, and I thought about staying, pulling her into my arms and forgiving her, but instead, I looked at her one last time before walking out._

_As I shut the door, I leaned against it and whispered three words, "I love you." Knowing that she couldn't hear me, but getting the words out made me realize that it was true, that was how I felt. But, my manly side came back and convinced me that it was her fault, she had lied to me. I walked out of the club with Ziva, and didn't turn back._

**End Flashback…**

* * *

Willow's POV

I got off work early because it had been a slow day. Bonnie, the head waitress, called me "Miss Red," and told me that I was already her favorite. "You're quiet, you do what you're told, and you don't ask for a texting break. Those are the hardest qualities to find in a waitress." Truth be told, I didn't have anyone to text. I had the burn phone that I had bought two months ago on my way out of town, but I hadn't used it yet, I was too scared to.

As I got home, I picked up the cheap cell phone and dialed an all-too-familiar number. Anya's phone went straight to voicemail, but I knew I had to leave her a message, at least a short one, even if it was the last words I ever spoke to anyone.

"Hey Anya," I began, "It's me. I don't know why I'm calling; I guess I just wanted to hear a familiar voice. I know I left suddenly, I hope the note explained everything. Tell Paisley and Gavin how much I miss them. Be safe Anya. Bye."

I hung up the phone, tears brimming in my eyes, and for the millionth time since I had gotten to Southport, I collapsed onto my couch, crying.

* * *

Tim's POV

As I did every day, I was checking Willow's family's phone records, in case she had, by chance, called one of them. Her parents were dead, I had learned, and the only family close by that she had, was her sister-in-law, niece, and nephew. Her brother was still in Afghanistan, but due home in a few weeks.

Today, though, was different. As I was scrolling through Anya's phone records, I saw an incoming call from a prepaid burn phone. I quickly hooked into it, putting on my headphones, and listened.

_"Hey Anya," Willow said, "It's me. I don't know why I'm calling; I guess I just wanted to hear a familiar voice. I know I left suddenly, I hope the note explained everything. Tell Paisley and Gavin how much I miss them. Be safe Anya. Bye."_

That was all the time I needed to track her location. As I waited for that long-awaited dot on the map, I couldn't do anything but hope that I was finding out where she was before Hamilton and his goons. Finally, there it appeared, six hour away in Southport, North Carolina.

After clearing my time off with Gibbs, I got in my car and drove, not stopping until I got there, but also not knowing what I was about to get myself into.

* * *

Willow's POV

I sat on my couch later that night, my hair up in a messy bun, no makeup, wearing sweats and one of Tim's shirts that he had left at my place. While I had been haphazardly packing, I didn't notice myself packing it. The comforting smell of him, coffee and musk, made me feel safe, even though I knew Hamilton was probably on his way for me. I just couldn't hide anymore. I had to face him.

Only a few minutes later, there was a persistent knocking at my door. I didn't know anyone well enough for them to come to my house, especially at ten o'clock at night. I got up, grabbing my gun, that I had gotten a concealed weapons permit for right after I started working for Hamilton, and got up to look through the peephole. I almost dropped my gun and screamed when I saw that it was Tim. Quickly opening the door and looking around to be sure he wasn't followed, I didn't let him say a word.

"Tim, what are you doing here?" I asked, a panicked tone arising in my voice.

"I've been looking for you," Tim replied, "I had to find you. I had to…"

Before he could say anything else, I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, locking the six padlocks I had on the door, before I finally turned back around to face him.

"I have to go," I said, furrowing my brow, "I have to pack."

"What?" Tim asked, rather confused.

"If you found me so easily, that means Hamilton must already be on his way," I explained, "He has people everywhere Tim. He probably even has some moles at NCIS."

"Willow, I'm going to protect you," he said, looking into my eyes and taking my hands in his, "I'm not going to let him hurt you."

"Why would you do that?" I asked, tears in my eyes now, "After what I did to you."

"You take care of the people you love," he stammered, looking at me for any sign of approval.

Without even thinking, I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. I smiled and leaned in to kiss him. His lips resisted at first and then I felt them melt into mine. His rugged, strong hand reached up and tangled into my hair and I felt the rumble of a soft moan as he let his instincts take over. Tilting my head, I deepened the kiss and traced my tongue against the contour of his tender lips. Sorrow's lips parted then and I could taste his sweet tongue as he ran in across mine.

As quickly as it started it stopped. Both Tim and I couldn't stop smiling.

"I love you too," I smiled, taking his hand and leading him to my room, knowing that I wanted to show him, and not just tell him.

That night, being with Tim, it made me forget about the danger that surrounded us.

* * *

Tim's POV

Waking up the next morning to Willow drawing circles on my bare, surprisingly toned, stomach made me smile.

"Good morning," I smiled, looking into her beautiful blue eyes.

We got up, showered, and got dressed, only to lounge on the couch, forgetting about everything.

Until gunshots began ringing and bullets started coming through the windows. I threw myself on top of her, shielding her on the ground, as I reached to grab my gun. She did the same, grabbing a gun I hadn't seen her have or use before. I crawled to the window and peered through, seeing two large men in a dark SUV firing outside the windows, Washington DC plates.

I texted Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva, sending out an SOS, before I began firing out the window back. Willow proceeded to do the same, even though I told her to stay back. I didn't want something to happen to her, not after everything. I heard a muffled scream, and when I looked out the window again, I realized that I had hit one of the men. The other, now angry, began coming towards the door. As he ran towards it, a gunshot rang out, and he fell to the ground.

I was surprised to see Tony, blowing the end of his gun like in an old western movie, as he, Gibbs, and Ziva walked up the steps and came inside.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, stunned that they were here just after I had texted them.

"You did send out an SOS Probie," Tony smiled, "We at NCIS take those very seriously."

"Don't listen to him McGee," Ziva replied, "We were tailing those two baboons out there. They were driving Hamilton Ambrose's SUV and we believed one of the men to be him. Obviously, we were wrong."

"Are you two alright?" Gibbs asked, in his all-serious regular voice.

"We're fine," I answered, looking at Willow, "Just a little shaken up I think."

"That's a nice wake-up call for you," Tony smiled, laughing at his own joke.

"So, everything's okay?" Ziva questioned, looking from Willow to me.

I looked at Willow, and she smiled back at me.

"Yeah," I responded, "Once we finally get Ambrose, I think everything will be perfect."

* * *

**_So, what do you think? I hope you all enjoyed the sixth chapter of It Started With Coffee. _**

**_Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey_**

**_I have also started writing another McGee/OC story called All Hands On Deck! Check it out and review please!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own any NCIS characters/content besides Willow and the other characters I created. Everything goes to Donald Bellisario and CBS.**

**So, I had the crazy idea of writing an NCIS fanfiction! I am now writing four fanfictions at once, so we'll see how this goes!**

**I would also like to thank Miss Private Daniel Jackson, puppypants, Gryffindor4eva, and Hope'sFace for their amazing reviews! Keep it up!**

* * *

Chapter Seven-_Two weeks later…_

Willow's POV

Since the shooting in Southport, a lot had happened. Roxy and I had been moved to a safe house in Georgia. Roxy, I had recently found out, actually witnessed Lulu's murder, making her able to testify once Hamilton and Co. were finally arrested and put on trial.

Unfortunately, living in the safe house meant I wouldn't be able to see Tim. We had two body guards who lived with us at all times, and Tim had originally volunteered to be one of them, but Gibbs said he was needed back at NCIS, which meant that, just as we had gotten back together, we were separated again.

Today, I had gone to the grocery store with no supervision, for the first time in two weeks. One of the guards, Paul, had the flu and had been throwing up for two days straight, so I snuck out to fill our bare cupboards.

As I turned the key in the lock and opened the door, it already seemed too quiet. As I walked inside, chills ran up my spine as I dropped the bags in my arms at the sight of three bodies in the living room. Blood covered the floor surrounding Paul, Chris, and Roxy. They were all dead, that was evident, and I was shaking as I turned back around, ready to run out the door, only to find, as I turned around, Hamilton and Harrison Ambrose standing right in front of me, smiling devilishly.

My arms shot to my sides, the panic bracelet that Tim had given me clad tightly to my wrist, meant to stay on permanently, only to be removed by a magnetic sensor. There was a small button on the inside of the sterling silver band, which meant that I all I had to do was press my wrist against it, and NCIS would have my location and help would be on the way. I pressed the bracelet against my thigh, seeing the red light begin to flash, knowing that they knew I was in trouble, hoping that they would get here fast.

* * *

Tim's POV

NCIS headquarters had been replaced by a jumbled setup in the FBI Atlanta office, to be closer to Willow and Roxy in the safe house. We were still working the Ambrose case, finalizing and confirming the information that Ziva had gathered while working undercover.

As I sat at one of the computers, listening to one of the audio recordings of Ziva's undercover work, my cell phone began to vibrate and ring very loudly, and as I looked at the screen, my blood ran cold. It was Willow's distress signal; her panic bracelet had been activated.

We all shot into action, rounding up as much police force as we could get. Pulling up to the safe house, the door was open a bit, causing us all to draw our weapons as we made our way inside. It was a grim sight. The two bodyguards and Roxy lay in a large pool of blood in the living room, dead. Willow, however, was nowhere to be found.

As we searched the rest of the house, I came across something odd in the kitchen. Something shiny flashed from underneath the stove, and I bent down and reached my hand underneath, pulling out the broken remnants of Willow's panic bracelet.

"Boss," I said, my voice shaking, "We've got a problem."

Gibbs walked in, followed by Tony, and they stopped in their tracks when they saw me.

I put the broken silver pieces in Gibbs' hand.

"They have her," I gulped, "What if she's…"

"McGee, we can't think like that," Tony said, coming over and putting his hand on my shoulder, "We're going to find her."

I just hoped that we did. For the first real time in my life, I found someone that I loved and I wasn't going to let anyone take her away from me.

* * *

Willow's POV

I sat in a house, tied to a chair, my wrists and ankles bound. My right wrist was bruised and swollen, as a result of Harrison's harsh method of removing my panic bracelet with bolt cutters.

I didn't know where I was, but we hadn't driven that far from the safe house. At least, when I was conscious it didn't seem like far. Harrison had hit me with the butt of his gun, knocking me out for an unknown amount of time.

Finally, Harrison and Hamilton entered the room.

"My, my," Hamilton smiled, "Don't you look lovely my dear Willow. It's been too long."

"Screw you," I sneered, looking at him with disgust.

"Ahhh," Harrison sighed, "Looks like someone hasn't learned their lesson Father."

"Well my boy," Hamilton said, patting his son on the back, "She'll soon learn what happens when you mess with the Ambrose family."

"If you're going to kill me, just get it over with," I stated firmly.

"No, that would be too easy," Hamilton replied, walking over towards me, "I want you to feel all the pain that you've caused me since you started working for me."

He stroked the side of my face, even though I tried to move it out of his reach.

"She's all yours son," Hamilton sighed, "I'll be in the kitchen when you get done."

Harrison turned around to face me as his father walked out of the room, an evil smile on his face.

* * *

Tim's POV

It's been four hours since we discovered that Willow had been abducted by Hamilton and Harrison Ambrose, and we had no leads on their location. I sat in a chair at the Atlanta FBI headquarters, head in my hands, as I couldn't think of a single way to find out where they would've taken her.

"I thought you could use this," Ziva smiled, as she handed me a steaming mug of coffee, "Looks like you need it."

"I can't lose her Ziva," I croaked, "Not now. Not after everything."

"I understand McGee," Ziva replied, sitting down next to me, "You love her. We don't want to lose the people we love. It is simple. But, we need to do everything to try to find her, which means we need you at your best. You have to do it for her, do it for Willow."

Ziva was right. I couldn't wallow in my own self-pity. I had to do whatever I could to find Willow, because right now, she was one of the only things in my life that mattered.

* * *

Willow's POV

I winced in pain as I felt a pounding headache begin to come. Harrison had untied my wrists, and instead, tied them to the arms of the chair I was sitting in, when he moved me from the living room into a bedroom. I jumped when I touched my face with my hand. It was swollen and bleeding from several gashes. Tears threatened to fall as I thought of Tim, but I was snapped out of my thoughts by Harrison walking back into the room.

"Hello beautiful," he sneered as he locked the bedroom door behind him, some sort of device in his hand. My vision was blurry, playing tricks on me as I tried to figure out what it was.

I then heard a buzzing sound; still not sure what it was, but I had a thought in the back of my mind.

_No, _I thought, _Please God no._

I heard more buzzing, followed by a burning pain on my left arm, followed by the same pain on my right arm, over and over, alternating between arms. I knew that if I fought back, it would just be worse, so I allowed it to happen. I shook and writhed on the chair, biting my lip so no screams would come out, not wanting to give Harrison the satisfaction.

Now knowing that what Harrison was pressing into my arm was a cattle prod, I knew that they wanted to torture me before killing me.

Not getting the reaction that he wanted, Harrison ripped open my button-up shirt, exposing my bare stomach, and thrust the prod onto my flesh.

My screams erupted through the room, the pain being more than I had ever felt before. All I could hope was that Tim and NCIS would find me soon.

* * *

Tim's POV

"Do you have anything McGee?" Gibbs asked as he walked into our makeshift bullpen.

"Hamilton Ambrose used one of his personal credit cards at a tractor supply store early this morning to purchase…" I stopped, my mouth dropping as I saw what he had bought, "An electric cattle prod, a hunting knife, a blow torch, heavy duty rope, and duct tape."

"They're planning on torturing her," a familiar voice said, as he walked into the room, "Narcissists feed on the pain and suffering of others. Here, we have two high-level narcissists."

"Ducky, what are you doing here?" I asked the kind doctor.

"Jethro wanted to me to help profile your two terrible tyrants," Ducky explained, "I figured it might be of some use to finding out their location."

"Check the financial records for all of Ambrose's personal and business accounts," Gibbs ordered, "See if there's a house rental or warehouse or storage unit in Georgia."

"There is something Boss," I said, as I continued to type furiously, "Hamilton Ambrose's mother, Charlotte, was born in Georgia and the family owned a property in Chattahoochee National Forest, a cabin. When Charlotte and her husband Hudson died, it was given to Hamilton."

"Let's get there," Gibbs said, "Now."

* * *

Willow's POV

My arms were numb now, the pain too intense to even think about anymore. They were red and blistered, burns from the cattle prod covering the length of both of them. Burns also covered my stomach, my shirt still ripped open.

Harrison had finally gotten tired of burning me and had left the room, but not before shoving his tongue down my throat and sticking his hand inside my bra, violating me in every way except one. I didn't know if he had the guts to actually rape me, but I didn't want to find out.

I thought that I was going to be okay, although my arms were on fire, the pain so hot and intense, until Hamilton walked in, a blow torch in his hand. He smiled evilly as he turned on the blow torch and began to move it over my left arm, and then repeating the same on my right. My skin was bloody and shriveled; the pain so terrible, I could hardly stay conscious.

"You, my dear, are going to be sorry that you decided to betray me," he sneered, "Your family."

"You are not my family," I was able to mutter through the pain, "You've controlled my life for too long. I don't regret anything that I've done except coming to work for you."

"Well," Hamilton began, but before he could finish, a shot rang out, and I was covered in a spray of blood as he fell to the floor, a bullet lodged in his skull.

* * *

Expecting to see Tim and his team, I was shocked to see Harrison walk in, gun in hand, smiling.

"I should've gotten rid of him a long time ago," he said, "He was weak. I was the one who killed all those women. It was me. He couldn't do it. He started, but I was the one who finished them off. I'm the strong one, I deserve everything."

"You're not a bad person Harrison," I mumbled, "It's not your fault that you were raised in this business. You can stop. I can help you get out."

"This business is who I am," he cried out, "It's all I will ever be. Nothing can change that. Not even a sexy redhead like you."

"Don't touch me," I seriously stated, "You're done hurting me. I know you don't like doing this."

"How would you know that?" Harrison asked, becoming hysterical as he paced back and forth in the room, flailing his gun about, "You don't know anything about me. You never got to know me. It's all your fault!"

He quickly made his way over to me, gun pointed at my forehead.

"You have to pay," he grinned, "That's what has to happen."

He cocked the gun and pressed it to my forehead, as my arms went numb from the high amount of pain. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about Tim, wanting him to be the last thing I thought of before I died.

* * *

Before I could die, though, a shot rang out, and Harrison fell to the ground, a bullet to the back of his head, his body falling near his father's. Once he had fallen, my eyes fully opened, and I was relieved to see, even through my blurry vision, Tim.

But, all too soon, my vision became more blurry, the pain in my arms becoming unbearable. I heard Tim saying my name, but then everything went black.

* * *

**_CLIFFHANGER!_**

**_So, what do you think? I hope you all enjoyed the seventh chapter of It Started With Coffee. _**

**_Please review! Let me know if you have any suggestions, comments, or ideas for future chapters! I love hearing what you readers have to say! ~Kelsey_**

**_I have also started writing another McGee/OC story called All Hands On Deck! Check it out and review please!_**


	8. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Dear Loyal Readers,

I know this isn't the chapter update you were expecting. Due to some personal issues and my crazy amount of schoolwork, all of my stories are currently on hiatus. Special sorry to Evaesis! I promise I will keep working on your story!

I will continue to work on writing chapters, but don't expect regular updates. Updates will probably be sporadic and I might start a new story! I know that sounds crazy, but I have lost some interest in Here We Go, the sequel to Here I Go (Spencer Reid/OC fanfic) and An Untraditional Love Story (Derek Morgan/OC fanfic).

If anyone has any ideas for these stories, things they want to see happen, etc. PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

Once again, I am very sorry for the inconvenience! Please reread the stories and chapters that I have up right now and REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW when I have new ones up! Lack of reviews is another contributing factor to this temporary hiatus.

Fanfictionally yours always,

Kelsey


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